left exposed by lids which would not close.
It is not fear that trembles her thin lips
in the corners creased by time's daily feasts.
It is not with fear that her small hands shake
each fine movement betrays joints hacked away.
A decade's passed since she was afraid last
but it is not courage in place of fear.
Only, she has forgotten to remember.
Man is beautiful. Peculiar, but beautiful. The beauty of man and all his peculiarities and complexities can be felt so profoundly at times that the eyes glaze with fresh tears. I could write an elaborate essay, but perhaps this should be saved for a different time and place.
Happy Birthday, Pappa.
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